


And We Run

by DancingShadows9174



Category: Phineas and Ferb
Genre: Break Up, Confusion, F/M, Feelings, Fluff and Angst, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 12:24:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8750761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DancingShadows9174/pseuds/DancingShadows9174
Summary: Inspired by the song And We Run, Vanessa is taking her and Ferb's break up very hard. Phineas tries to help her, but it's all too much for her. I will change the tags and warnings as necessary, since I'm doing this little by little.





	1. Chapter 1

He said that running makes it easier. But it really doesn't. It burns into your heart, without you realizing how much it really affects you.  
So I run, with a lonely heart, hoping I don't fall apart as I round a dark corner, hoping I don't fall to the ground, panting and exhausted, before I've even gotten a mile.  
And so I run, pretending that I'm cheerful and happy and absolutely not affected by anything anymore. Nope. This is my normal face, not my trying-way-too-hard face.  
Green is good. Green grass and lushious fields swooping past me into a disappearing horizon, green hair under my fingers, spiked but soft...  
Nope.  
Green is bad, so purple. Purple sunsets painted across dreary skies, a small, innocent lily twisting in between my fingers, starched fabric thick and dry, pinched with all digits...  
Nope.  
Purple is bad, so I just run, pretending I'm so totally okay with everything. My imagination has grown stronger from what it used to be. I know because I train myself to focus on heavy breaths and thudding feet like a nightmare stalks me, not my memories. Never Have I Ever, I play, searching my thoughts for details lost or never made.  
Never Have I Ever...drunk a full cup of coffee. The taste, so bitter, always gets to me before the end of the drinking, so my half-full mugs stand on the counter, pretending with me that the contents are, in fact, delicious, but a rebellious stomach disagrees. He always said that I wasted at least a gallon a month, but I would in turn declare that...  
I'm not thinking about that, I tell myself, skidding to a stop at a glaringly red light.  
Never Have I Ever...slept on my back. I normally sleep on my right arm, twisting it under my ribs and pretend it's not there. My face ends up pushed into the rigid white pillow he bought me within three weeks of us moving in together...  
I'm not thinking about that, I yell at myself, sprinting across painted white lines on black pavement; like the engagement dress he and his mom found me...  
STOP, I shriek, slamming into a tall brick boundary, knocking my teeth painfully together. I've fallen now, and my arm feels funny, but so does my head, with my hair sticking to my cheek. It's ticklish, but I can't bring my arm up to wipe it away. Footsteps pound on the ground, vibrating against my stubbornly stuck under me shoulder.  
Are you alright, miss? Do you need a doctor? Ma'am?  
The worry in his voice is familiar and tell myself that it's just the pain making me loopy. I swear I know him.  
No, I'm fine. Thank you.  
Are...are you sure? I think you're bleeding.  
I'm fine. It's a scratch. I need to run.  
I'm standing and lurching to the side, feeling bruised and battered.  
Can you stand? I can call someone... Wait. Are you...Nessa? Nessa, is that you?  
No, no, I have no idea who you're talking about. Leave me alone. Goodbye.  
Running feels sore and achy and I can't move my stiff limb, so it thumps painfully against my bouncing body.  
Wait! Stop!  
The voice is getting fainter and quieter until I am finally away from the redheaded nuisance.  
Until there are cars, too many of them, surrounding me like I'm a criminal. Halting abruptly, I turn slowly and attempt to raise my arms above my head, only managing to fully lift my left. The fuzzy feeling one hangs next to my side, half raised.  
There is laughing, but not at me, I think.  
Maybe they are.  
Are you Vanessa Doofenshmirtz? We got a call from a Phineas Flynn-Fletcher that you were in need of medical attention. Is this true?  
I'm laughing and crumpling down again, hitting the concrete with the sides of my legs, but my torso is caught by strong arms that I think might be his, but then they leave and I know they must be.  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
Is she going to be okay?  
Drip, drip, drip, drop.  
Yes; just...when she wakes up, don't do anything to stress her.  
Drop, drop, drop, drip.  
Got it. Thank you...  
Drip.  
Drip.  
Drip.  
Drop.  
Are you awake, Nessa?  
Nessa? Who's Nessa?  
Oh. That's me.  
I struggle to prop myself up on my elbows, but something is keeping me from pulling my right arm down. I cry out as the prickling in my limb increases. A blurry face appears in my vision, pointed and strange.  
Nope. I'm still fast asleep.  
There's a small laugh and I smile in the direction of the blob.  
Feeling okay?  
I...still have no idea why I'm...here.  
Oh! You broke your arm, in a collision. What collision?  
A brick wall collision.  
So, you really just weren't paying attention.  
I was running. I didn't have time to turn.  
That's okay. It happens. You'll be released in a couple of hours. Where's home? I could drop you off.  
No, don't...I'll just go to Dad's. Hopefully he won't ask too many questions.  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
Love is a strange thing to comprehend. Escepially if you've spent a good part of your life focusing on the exact opposite.  
Hate is a strong word, but how else can he explain his feelings towards her? To that woman that dumped him into the street and rode off without a single glance back.  
He did, but she never would.  
Charlene was just that kind of person, and those kinds of people aren't the best at making up. At all. So Heinz stayed divorced, Charlene stayed happy, and Vanessa carried the short end of the stick.  
Her dad's house was big, but her mom's was a mansion. She could wander around and get lost, but she'd never be truly late to dinner, because so was everyone else.  
But today, she was headed for the purple skyscraper with green lasers shooting randomly out of the loft. Groaning, she ducked her head in, trying to catch a glimpse of her slouching father in his white pharmaceutical coat.  
There was nothing to see, but Nessa has been expecting as much. Throwing her jacket to the side, she crashed onto the red couch in the middle of the living room. Snuggling up with the throw pillow, she breathed on heavily, faint in the miracle smell of-  
Him.  
How was his strong cologne so faint here? How was it here, next to her, up against her, with her?  
He had to have come over recently. Probably looking for her, finding her dad, waiting on this couch for a while, and leaving just as abruptly.  
She wanted to die, right here and now, smelling the soft aroma his presence always coincided with. She could imagine his thick green hair in her fingers, his strong arms clutching around her bare stomach, his gentle mouth pressed on hers as they fell, laughing, into the cushions beneath them. She wanted it so bad! She wanted him so bad.  
And she couldn't have him, of course, but no one was stopping her from dreaming, from pretending.  
"Nessa? My dearest Nessa."  
Vanessa shot up, alert and looking for the source of the sound. It couldn't be him...it just couldn't. That's not how it works, her brain tried to reason.  
Only reason is not a valid excuse for hearing him in her house, calling her name, seeking her company just as she was his.  
She stood and gazed wistfully back out the door she came from, and with a happy sigh, started out again.  
She hadn't gotten three steps before who would enter the room but her father. Irritation surged through her and she bit her lip, trying hard not to scream.  
"Nessa, I have a question I'm hoping you can answer," began Heinz, obliviously, clasping his thin hands. "What is...retro?"  
"Argh, Dad!" She yelled, stamping her foot. He looked at her in surprise and anguish.  
"Oh, dear. What did I say? Nessa?"  
"Stop calling me that!" Her voice was hoarse from screaming, but she continued to shriek, causing an entering upright platypus to cover its ear holes and chatter at her.  
Sinking to the ground, Nessa glared bitterly at Perry. "Tell your owner...tell Fer-..." She shook her head. "Never mind. Just stay away, and don't you dare ask what's wrong," she added over her shoulder as she got up and stormed upstairs.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phineas runs too, but he's not sure how it helps Nessa so when he walks into a situation that triggers him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize in advance for the (ridiculously) short chapter. I wanted to at least get SOMETHING uploaded before the New Year, and I wasn't sure when else I'd be able to.  
> I hope this answers (or asks) a question or two.

Phineas breathed hard and fast, stopping to bend at the waist and pant. He'd run all afternoon, wondering if it would distract him from having to go back home. Linda had been frosting a magnificent cake when he found her on the counter, crying into the bowl of sugery confectionery. Lawrence had locked himself in his room, the sounds of a documentary about ducks echoing from within. Candace wasn't home. So he ran, with a lonely heart, threatening to burst free of his sweaty T-shirt. The rough bricks ahead of him barely escaped his blurring vision enough for him to register that he should dodge them.   
The street was uneven and he tripped over the ridged road. Catching himself with his stinging palms,there was a sharp intake of breath behind him.  
Phineas? Hey, are you okay?  
...yeah. Just fell. How are you doing today?   
She shook her dark hair so it swept around her face. I'm not sure how I'm still doing everything I have to. Wet appeared on her ruddy cheeks.  
He dragged his cold finger across her face. I know. I know. I just...had to get out of the house.   
Isabella nodded. I have to go. Take care, Phineas.  
Nod.  
He's alone again, but he's still, legs stiff until he sunk to the ground again to sob.  
He knew that everyone thought they understood, but no one truly does, not like him. Well, maybe Nessa.  
Get out of the way!  
He glanced up in surprise and scrambled to the side as a paramedic raced by him, sprinting for a store on the next block. Curious, he followed him into the building and stopped short as too much blood filled his vision and he felt himself scream and back up against the wall. Someone shook him and slapped his open mouth, leaving him breathless and quiet.  
Good. Deep breaths. Walk on out. Keep walking.  
He did, letting the gentle hands guide him out onto the bustling sidewalk. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it just reminded me...  
It's okay, son. It's just a major cut, nothing to get too frazzled over...  
No, no, it's fine, I'm fine...  
You need to sit down, son?...  
No, no, it's fine, I'm fine...  
You look really pale...son? Son?!  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
...and honestly, he hasn't been the same since. I've been very worried, you know.  
Mom?  
Nah, it's Candace. Jeremy called me and said you had fainted at that butcher shop on 4th.   
Hey, Phineas.  
Hey, Jeremy.  
You good? Your sister and I've been pretty scared for you lately-  
He sat up and started to climb out of the sheets. Hasn't everyone been a little on edge? He tried for a laugh, but received a frown from each. Okay, maybe I'm more than a bit out of sorts. Can you blame me?  
No, her eyes welled up. No, Phineas, no one blames you, no one does, it was an accident-  
He stood and started to leave the suffocating room. Yeah, and does that make me feel any better? No? Then maybe no one should say anything like that. Maybe we could all forget it happened.  
The moment the words came out of his mouth, he wished he could take them back to stop his sister's silent sobbing into her husband's shirt. But he can't, so he slams the door behind him.  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
The street is dark and a lamp flickered. Someone is laughing. Someone is talking. Someone is happy. Someone is silent. The screeches behind them say that ice has arrived and doesn't need anyone to tell it where to be. A swerve here, clenched teeth there, and control sinks to the bottom of a snowy hell.  
And then someone is screaming and someone is wailling and someone is bleeding and someone is closing their eyes to the world of pain around them.  
Jolts and pricks and help me, god, make it stop, make it  
Electricity shoves its way into his body and retch and retch and convulse and  
Infernal beeping is everything until it's everything and then something and then nothing and then  
Salt runs across his lips until he can't taste it he can't feel it he can't  
.  
.  
.  
Translucent. That's what the world is. And there is a flutist who knows her stuff and wants him to hear the waves of white and black and neither flood his shorted brain and lay next to him as a blanket would, or wouldn't.  
Thinking isn't anything if you can't think, he thinks, but only just until someone yanks a cord and he's out like a dying light.  
A dying light.  
Dying.  
Died.  
And it's all Phineas' fault.


End file.
